16. Drew

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Andrew

I walk to the backyard and—wow. Stella must have left the office and decided to run the show herself, and I have to admit, the teams have done an incredible job.

I'd made a secret Pinterest account just to follow Claire. One night I saw her scrolling through a board labeled "my future wedding"—it wasn't hidden or locked, so I created a fake account and followed it. Honestly, she had some really great stuff on there. I sent a bunch of pictures to Aiden and Joy, and apparently, they already followed her and knew what she wanted. The pink chiffon? That was all me. They better not take that credit from me. Chiffon pink has been Claire's favorite color since I met her—most of her wardrobe is some variation of pink, chiffon pink, or pastels. The team incorporated those colors beautifully.

Her bouquet has white and pink flowers, some greenery that kind of looks like parsley—probably not parsley, but it's green—and it's wrapped in white silk. She's going to love it.

They've set up a few chairs for my old college friends who still live nearby, some of Claire's fellow teachers and close students, and somehow... my coworkers. Word got out about the wedding.

That bastard Jared. Not only is he my best friend, but he's also the COO of our company. After my brother backed out of the family business, I offered Jared the job. We went to Ivy League together and have been inseparable since. I called him to the office just to let him know about the wedding and make sure he had a tux. Next thing I know, that bastard tells Christy, the CFO, who tells Carl, the CMO, who tells the HR head—and now all these random coworkers, people I barely talk to, are showing up to my wedding. Some even had the nerve to ask for a plus one.

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It's creeping up on 6 p.m., and my nerves are shot. Jared has had to drag me away from the house more than once because I couldn't wait to see Claire. I just needed to make sure she hadn't run off out the back door, screaming for someone to save her from my crazy family.

It's 5:55 p.m. now. Stella has fully taken on the role of wedding coordinator and is telling everyone to take their seats. She walks up to me and Jared and tells us it's time to take our place up front. Everything's ready.

Judge Seymore is officiating the wedding as a favor to me. I'd pulled some strings when his daughter needed marketing for her business—heard she made a couple million off that deal. I needed someone I could trust. I know my mother, and she would've found someone at the county office to pull the license before it could be processed. The judge promised to handle everything himself, start to finish. Mom-proof.

Jared taps my shoulder, pulling me out of my mental spiral. When I look up—there she is. My Claire, walking toward me in the most beautiful, sexy wedding dress I've ever seen.

Jared gives a low whistle. "Whoa, man. Claire is absolutely stunning. And that dress..."

I shoot him a look and growl low in my throat, jaw clenched. He is goading me.

"What?" he shrugs. "Only a blind person would say Claire isn't one of the most beautiful women in this town. And if you keep fucking up, I'll gladly be her rebound until she's ready to find something more permanent."

I turn to him, my whole body tensing under the tux, ready to knock him to the ground—but then he flashes that stupid megawatt smile.

"Relax, man. I'm just fucking with you. I'd ask her to dinner first, obviously."

Right as I'm about to send him to his maker, the music starts. Joy begins walking down the aisle, then everyone stands.

And there she is.

Claire.

Aiden is walking her down the aisle—which makes my skin crawl. I don't want to see him next to her in a tux looking even remotely groom-adjacent while she's standing there in a damn wedding dress. She is MY bride. My woman. My wife. I want to step toward her, but Jared holds me back, making me wait until she's close enough to reach.

Claire's parents aren't in her life. Both of them struggle with drug and alcohol issues, and when they couldn't get any more money from her, they cut her off. They reach out from time to time—especially after we started dating and the news got out. They saw her face on the cover of a newspaper after a charity event and saw dollar signs. Claire and I are worth billions, but I don't think her parents have fully realized that yet. They think I am rich, but not sure how rich.

Claire still considers herself low-income. She insists on keeping our money separate, but she has access to my accounts. She has a debit and credit card linked to mine. My money is her money.

And I'm hoping that tonight, she marries me without realizing she hasn't signed the prenup. I don't want that hanging between us. I don't ever want to be without her—and I believe she doesn't want to be without me either. I love her. And if I ever fuck up and she walks away, I want her to take half of everything... because she'll be taking half my heart with her too.

I focus on her face as she walks toward me.

She's looking straight at me.

And I know—this is it.

This is right.

I am hers, and she is mine.